ELEVEN…ELEVEN…ELEVEN A Poem By Bob Shepherd

The SAS window at St Martin’s Church, Hereford.

It’s that time of year when once again the Nation cares

It began for me way back, when I wore a pair of seventies flares

Understanding the need to think of those no more

As I stand taking my moment to just look down at the floor

From the Great War to all those many conflicts past

I took part in my own, my life has moved so fast

The SAS window and memorial inside Hereford Cathedral.

For the great individuals who gave their lives so young

Oh how I’d love today to just hear their native tongue

What I would give to sit down with them and have a brew

The older I get, those still alive are becoming so few

Mates for life, both from the RAF Regiment to the SAS, and lucky to now be in old age.

Each year the thoughts become stronger

Each year I miss them for longer

When I’m home I visit more friends under the ground

Than those about town who I meet up with when found

Catching a mate up with what’s going on.

I visit the “plot” it’s the graveyard of mates

They may have died young, but they’re known as the greats

It means so much to me to give up my time

As they gave up theirs, as they ceased to climb

That last blue mountain, or cross that glimmering sea

Quiet heroes to me they always shall be

Just one cap badge among many. Together in conflict we are one, and at this time of year we remember all…lest we forget.